Whatever's Gonna Happen Tonight
by renisanz
Summary: Becker has a concussion, and Jess is the only person available take him home and watch him for the night. Set after the Series 4 finale. Becker/Jess
1. Chapter 1

**Title****:** Whatever's Gonna Happen Tonight (1/2)  
><strong>Author<strong>**:** renisanz  
><strong>Rating<strong>**:** PG  
><strong>Words<strong>**:** 1,523  
><strong>Fandom<strong>**:** _Primeval_  
><strong>Pairing<strong>**:** Hilary Becker/Jessica Parker  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>**:** Up to Series 4 finale.**  
>Disclaimer: <strong>Just the words are my own.**  
>Notes<strong>**: pink_flame_87**'s piece for **Write for Relief** on LJ. I suppose this fits the third prompt. Thanks to **jazzrose343** for the beta help with British English. :)

. . . . . . . . . .

"Can I go now?"

Becker sighed impatiently yet kept still as the penlight moved from his right eye to his left and back again.

"One moment, Captain," came a woman's voice from just beyond the light. Finally, the pen clicked off, and his eyes began to adjust, focusing on the face before him. He watched as the slim, dark-haired and brown-skinned woman slid a pair of thin-framed reading glasses on her nose as she looked down, scribbling something on the notes in her hand.

"Your pupil dilation looks good," she told him.

Looking up from the notes and meeting his eyes, she continued. "You've sustained a pretty big shock to your system, pardon the pun, as well as an MTBI. I was actually surprised to see you still here, especially after your last escape from the infirmary."

Becker rolled his eyes, a painful gesture when combined with the pounding headache he'd been experiencing since he regained consciousness. "I did not escape. It was just a scratch."

The doctor gave him a dry look. "Right. Well, I suppose your stubbornness manifests itself in your impressively high pain tolerance. I still can't figure out how you managed to walk out of here that day, painkillers or no."

Becker smirked.

"In any case, I recommend you stay here for a few more hours for observation. You'll need to make arrangements for someone to drive you home."

"Really, I don't need a babysitter. Can't you just prescribe me some paracetamol and be done with it." To make sure she wouldn't interpret his impatience to be directed at her he caught her eye and added, "Please."

Becker was slightly startled when the woman practically thrust her hand in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He squinted his eyes as he tried to focus on the raised digits before him, being mindful not to hesitate for too long before he answered. "Three." He saw her raise one eyebrow dubiously. "And a half," he mumbled. "Alright, I see your point. I'll take a taxi."

He watched her face as she pursed her lips, considering him. "Here's the deal. I'll let you go _if_you can get someone, maybe one of your ARC mates, to take you home and keep an eye on you for the night."

She maintained eye contact with him, letting him know in her stance and the set of her jaw that she wasn't budging until he agreed to her conditions.

"Fine," he acquiesced. He was absolutely not pouting.

"Lovely. I'll see you back here tomorrow for your follow-up."

Apparently, she decided to take his silence as agreement to the future appointment. "Great. Now, I'm going to take advantage of the fact that you can barely move right now and go and get some coffee. Let me know who you think of to call, and then I'll discharge you." With a humoring smile, Dr. Bhakta made her exit.

. . . . .

He thought of calling Matt. Just as quickly he ruled out the new team leader. Becker very seriously his job of protecting the team. Part of those duties included watching over Matt, and he did want to risk appearing weak. Sure, Matt had assured him that he trusted Becker with his life, but Becker still had his pride. He had not wanted to be on leave the when he had suffered a venomous bite from that creature (_theracephalian_—he would never forget), but he couldn't very well walk around, let alone track down and subdue some rogue creature. So he had been forced to accept the medical leave as it was.

Next, he tried to raise Connor on the comm system. When the young scientist didn't answer, Becker tried dialing his mobile. Still, there was no response. He guessed that the other man was probably holed up in a lab somewhere, elbows deep in anomaly research, trying to suss out what exactly had caused the unusual circumstances of that day's incursion.

Abby was out of the question. Though she, Connor, and him had all become close colleagues, friends even, it was just weird to ask your mate's girlfriend to stay the night with you.

That left only one person he could think of who would be both able and willing to take him home and possibly stay the night. As the realisation settled on him, a sinking feeling developed in the pit of his stomach, a symptom that he was fairly certain to be completely unrelated to the aftereffects of the EMD.

. . . . .

"It was quite lucky that Matt came along and made the changes he did."

"What do you mean?" Becker asked.

"With the guns, I mean. If Ethan—or Patrick—whatever, well, if he had been long enough to pick up how the guns really worked. Thank goodness it was on the lowest setting. My God, you took _two_ blasts."

"Yes, Jessica, I was there." He tried to sit up in the bed, wincing as he did so. His arms still tingled and he could barely feel his hands. He was quite glad to be feeling anything at all. He certainly did not want to give Jess cause to be more worried about him than she already was.

"I'm fine," he told her.

"Dr. Bhakta mentioned something about you needing someone to see you home."

"Of course she did," Becker replied, shaking his head. Again, he forgot that moving, well, any part of his body, especially his head, stung like mad. _Yeah__, __ok_, he thought, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Jess was still talking. "It wouldn't be any sort of imposition. I know where you live—"

"Do you?"

Jess opened and closed her mouth, attempting to backpedal out of the conversation. "Well, I-I'm familiar with the general area. Not like I've ridden by your house or anything, because that would be...crazy, yeah." She blushed.

Becker watched her manicured hands as her fingers toyed with a bit of sheet that was bunched up on the side of his cot. "It's fine, Jess. I was going to ask if you were free to do it."

Her head shot up and she looked into his face, eyes wide. "Really?"

In that moment, she looked absolutely adorable and it was Becker who had to look away in order to keep his reaction to her neutral. "Yes," he stated. "Now, let's fetch Dr. Bhakta so we can be on our way."

. . . . .

Somewhere along the way Jess had picked up a small overnight bag, the strap slung over her shoulder, the weight of it on her hip. She stood patiently next time him as they waited for the lift that would take them to the car park.

She noticed his gaze and broke the silence between them. "What?"

He nodded at her bag. "Oh, I always keep a change of clothes stored here. Always good to be prepared and all that." She smiled brightly.

"Right. Good thinking."

The lift arrived and Becker waited for Jess to enter the car before he joined her inside. Out of habit, Becker checked his pockets for the keys to his car. He was slightly alarmed when he did not feel them in their usual place. He felt his other pockets.

"Looking for these?" He looked over at Jess to see her jangling a familiar set of keys before his face. She snapped them back into her palm when he attempted to reach for them. She tutted. "Dr. Bhakta was very firm about her order for you not to drive."

"You can't be serious." Becker was really at a loss.

"Sorry," she shrugged.

Under any other circumstances, Becker would be annoyed, but something about this young woman holding her ground made the situation almost amusing. Almost.

He relaxed for a moment, quickly took stock of the amount of sensation that had returned to his appendages, and then reached for the keys once more, hoping to surprise her. She did let out a shriek, but then quick moved the hand holding the keys behind her back as she leaned away from him. She switched the keys to her other hand and then brought it back around to her front. He reached for the keys once more but stopped short as he watched her deposit the entire key ring down the front of her shirt.

The lift came a stop, the doors opened, and the two of them stood still. Becker's mouth was open at pure shock from her actions. Then he realized that he had been staring helplessly at her cleavage for the past five seconds and immediately looked away.

"I can't believe I just did that."

Becker decided it was safe to spare a glance at her and he noticed a blush covering her cheeks.

"Well played, Miss Parker." He smiled genuinely as he nodded for her to lead the way.

Tbc.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This was meant to be a two-part fic, but now I think it will be at least three._

. . . . . . . . . .

They stood on the first floor landing. Becker stopped in front of the only door in the hall and looked expectantly at Jess.

She simply stared back at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. He raised his eyebrows. "My keys, Jessica."

"Oh, right." She produced them, and he gently took them from her hand, their fingers brushing as she did so. Becker quickly undid the lock and then a deadbolt with practiced efficiency, and then door opened and he was inside. "You didn't come all this way to spend the night in the hall did you?" He teased.

At that, Jess took the few short step to cross the threshold and into the flat. It was dark inside, the only illumination provided by light spilling in from the landing. She felt something tug at the strap of her bag, preventing her from venturing any further than the foyer. A hand ghosted along the small of her back, but Jess barely had time to register the sensation, when her attention was drawn by a low beeping sound behind her. Looking back over her right shoulder, she saw Becker's fingers dance across a keypad, as she realized he was disarming the alarm system.

Jess watched as he reached to a spot on the wall—he knew precisely where the switch was—and lights flickered on. She was finally able to get a proper first look around the flat. It wasn't quite how she had imagined.

Well, she _had_ expected to place to be as neat. In the lounge area, there was a gray sofa accented with brown and yellow pillows. Two smaller chairs were on either side of the coffee table. She walked over and peered at the books on the wooden surface—a magazine about guns among them. No surprise there.

"Find something interesting?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at hearing Becker's voice in her ear. She clutched her chest as she turned her head to face him.

"Sorry," he apologized, though he looked more amused than regretful at startling her, if the ghost of a smirk was any indication.

"No," she shook her head. "Really nice place. Honestly, I didn't think you were quite the type for interior decorating."

"I'm not actually. Most of the furniture was here when I moved in. What?" Becker saw that Jess was working something out in her mind, that maybe she wanted to say more.

"Nothing," Jess replied.

Becker rolled his eyes and persisted. "Come on, what is it?"

"It's just," she walked away from him, her heels sinking into the plush rug beneath their feet. "It's a lot homier than I imagined. For you, I mean." She turned around taking in the place. On the wall facing the sofa, where one would expect an entertainment system or fireplace to be located, was a glass case containing a variety of firearms, antiques mostly.

"That's definitely a personal touch." Jess walked over to get a better look at the contents of the case.

"Ah." He nodded. "Well, the coffin's in the basement. I just keep the bed around for special guests."

"Which one do you fancy?" Becker was standing close behind her again, but Jess resisted the urge to turn and look at him to confirm just how close he was standing.

She took in the inventory of the display, her eye finally stopping on a very old shotgun.

The extent of Jess' experience experience with firearms—outside of basic safety courses required of all the ARC personnel—amounted to several hours over an infinite number of weekends spent besting her older cousin Ron at Halo. Still, she could appreciate the aesthetics and craftsmanship that went into creating such a fine weapon.

A brief twinkle in his brown eyes. Just as quickly it was gone, and Becker was speaking as he looked away and lifted his chin, indicated the area behind her. "Bedroom is back right over there, if you'd like to get changed. I'll put on some tea, if you like."

"Alright, thank you," Jess said after a moment. Becker was already walking away, making his way toward the rear of the flat, toward the kitchen, she guessed.

. . . . .

Jess was just slipping on a pair of pink tracky bottoms when she heard a crash followed by a muffled string of uncharacteristically colourful language. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

She rushed to see what was the matter nearly tripping over furniture as she made her way, not familiar with the layout of the apartment. She stopped short, her feet sliding across the cool tile of the kitchen floor. At her arrival, Becker looked up and immediately motioned for her not to come any farther.

"Careful," he held up his hands and looked down at her bare feet. "There's broken glass."

"What happened?" She asked, not trying to hid the concern she was feeling.

"After effects of the EMD. I can't even pour a bloody cup of tea." She noticed he was favouring his left hand.

"You burned yourself." It wasn't really a question. She started to walk over to him, to have a better look.

"Jess, the glass," he insisted.

"Yeah. I see it," She cut off his protests. "Just come over here so I can have a look." She nodded at the mess on the floor. "We'll worry about cleaning that up later. You should be resting anyhow," She continued, as walked over to her. "Not trying to perform delicate tasks."

"I think I can manage making a cup of tea. It's not exactly anomaly research, now is it."

"Says the man nursing second degree burns on his hands."

"It's not that bad." Becker sounded indignant. Still, he let Jess take his arm and guide him over to the couch.

"Sit," she ordered, pushing him down towards the cushions. That was a mistake. Instead of falling gracefully down onto the cushions, Becker stumbled, somehow tripping on Jess' feet in the process. She squeaked as they both tumbled onto the couch in a mass of tangled limbs.

"Oww," Becker grunted from beneath her.

Trying hard and failing miserably at ignoring the intimate nature of their relative positions, Jess quickly glanced down at him through the fringe of hair that has some how come loose and fallen across her eyes. "Sorry," Jess bit her lip as she flushed. "So sorry." As the weight of his large, warm hands rested on the side of her waist, her back, she was unable to form any more coherent words of apology.

. . . . .

The night was definitely not going as she'd planned. Not that she had actually planned for anything to happen. When Dr. Bhakta had approached her and suggested that Jess see Becker home, Jess, was barely able to contain her excitement. She and Becker had gotten on great during their work hours, but the only time she had been able to spend with him for the past few months had been during work. She could kid herself into think that the stakeout somehow qualified as a date, but the whole having to save him by diffusing a bomb set by a psycho thing had killed any romantic prospects for that evening.

And today, she had been presented with the opportunity of spending some real time with Becker. She had to keep him up all night, and what better way to do that than to talk. She could finally get answers to all those pressing questions that had nagged her. It turned out that Connor and Abby could not tell her much more about Becker than the files, and Jess was not about to go searching out the personal details in Becker's file. Not that there were many. Unable to resist the temptation, she had started to read at one point but was soon was overcome with guilt over what she was doing. Jess was also enough of a blabber mouth that she figured there was no way anything she gleaned from the files would come out in a dignified fashion, and at worst she would end up looking like a pathetic stalker. Or a lovesick young girl, which was the absolute last thing she wanted Becker to see her as.

She had a tendency to come on too strong, to be too pushy, inquisitive, and that had a habit of backfiring. She would say the wrong thing before she realized, unable to grab the words back, and then she would often ended up saying worse in a effort to mend the error.

Jess deposited the glass shards into the dustbin. She put the broom and dust pan back in their places and walked over to join Becker in the lounge room.

"You didn't have to clean that up."

Jess walked around the table, not trusting herself to walk over his outstretched legs without causing him another injury. "It was no problem, really." Jess assure him as she on the opposite end of the sofa. "How's your hand?"

Becker glanced at his hand. Jess had applied an antiseptic cream to the burned area before going to clean up the tea and broken cup. "I barely feel it. But that could be a combination of the EMD and the Nurofen."

He looked up at Jess and smirked. She felt her heart flutter and looked away before smiling in return. "Right. Well, what can we do to pass the time? We could watch something."

She looked around the room. It was absent of a television. "You don't have a TV," she stated, a bit shocked, but it wasn't unusual, considering the type of man Becker was.

"I do, actually." Becker rolled his eyes, like her assumption had been completely ridiculous. "It's in the bedroom." He nodded to the room behind them.

"Oh." Jess felt another blush coming on. Really, was she that immature?

"I usually clean my guns in my free time. Or go to the shooting range. But..." he looked over at Jess, as if to get confirmation, "I suppose either of those out of the question in my...impaired condition." He said the last words through gritted teeth and Jess frowned.

"Well," Jess huffed and crossed her arms for effect, "If I had know you were going to be such a big baby about this..." She purposely let the sentence go unfinished.

"I am not being a baby," Becker protested. "I just don't like having to sit around and rest or whatever I'm supposed to be doing—or not doing—this whole time."

Jessica glared at him, lifting a dubious eyebrow. "So, what? You'd rather be running around the streets of London with a mild traumatic head injury. I had to drive you home, remember?"

"Yes, and the memory of that will haunt me for quite sometime."

"Hey!"

"Honestly, Jess, your driving skills are quite frightening." Becker shrugged. "But as you've pointed out, I am currently brain damaged, so who can tell for sure."

She stood up from the couch and walked determinately toward the kitchen. Becker reached out, catching hold of her elbow before she could get by him. "Hey, I was only kidding. Where are you going?"

She sighed. "To make some tea, you brain damaged soldier boy."

"Oh," Becker nodded and then released her arm. She immediately missed his touch on her skin, but she put the thought out of her mind as she walked.

"Wait, what did you call me?" Becker called after her.

Jess smiled. She didn't turn around to see the indignant look on his face. Connor would be getting an earful from him, she was sure.

. . . . .

tbc.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes: **pink_flame_87's piece for write for relief. Thanks to **bailey1ak** for looking over this.

_**A/N:** Sorry this took so very long to post. Thanks you for all of your reviews and comments. I'm a Southern American writing British English, so please pardon my errors in that regard._

. . . . .

Take out boxes were strewn across the coffee table. Jess had not eaten anything since breakfast, so she may have gone overboard with ordering the takeout. Becker insisted on paying for it all anyway. She put down the prawn cracker she'd been nibbling and regarded him for a moment.

Eventually he noticed her attention and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"What was Sara like?"

She felt Becker tense beside her and then quickly relax. Jess chewed the inside of her lip and tried to change the subject.

"If you don't want to talk about he it's fine. It's just...you said I could ask you anything about the old team, and I've never heard you talk about her..."

"She was...brilliant," Becker answered finally, cutting off Jess' blabbering.

"You liked her," Jess stated. During their time together, working at the ARC, she had been able to observe Becker's reaction whenever the late Dr. Page was brought up. There were references made to the work she had done with Cutter in deciphering the true nature of the artifact that Helen Cutter had discovered in the future and brought back to the present.

She turned to look at Becker, to gauge his reaction at her words.

He spoke in such a low tone that she barely heard his response. "It doesn't matter. She's gone."

"What happened to her isn't your fault."

"Seeing as it was my job to keep the team alive, yeah, I'd say it was." There was little bitterness in his tone, not anymore. It was as if he had repeated the words so many times that he was no long able to say them with any discernible feeling.

Becker stared straight ahead, his eyes not focused on anything particular. As Jess studied the stubbled line of his jaw, she wondered if he was thinking on some unspoken memory of Sarah. She chewed the inside of her bottom lip, debating on whether or not to ask. When she finally decided to go ahead, Becker spoke. "She was a lot like you, you know."

Jess looked at him inquisitively. "How so?"

"She liked to run ahead, trying to save the day without any regard for her own safety."

"I'm hardly that fearless," Jess told him.

"Diffusing a bomb counts, I think. The next time I tell you to get out of there Jess, I hope you'll listen to me."

"And have you be blown to bits when I could have done something for that not to happen? I don't think so."

"That's just the thing, isn't it. It's my job to protect you, and I can't do that when you people won't listen to me half—no—_most_ of the time.

"I've gotten a second chance with Connor and Abby. Look, I know that they've got enough experience to handle themselves and have a pretty good idea of what they're dealing with when they go through an anomaly or face a creature. But you—" Becker paused abruptly.

"Yeah?" Jess urged him to go on.

They were shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Becker remained silent. After a while, Jess turned to look at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it, not wanting to risk cutting him off. Eventually, he inclined his head toward her and began speaking in a low voice.

"You've read all our files, including the old mission reports, right?"

"Yes. I mean, except for the personal bits," she added, hoping she didn't sound too lame.

"Well, then you have a pretty good idea of how dangerous this work is, how many good people have been lost. People with a lot more years and experience than you have."

Jess rolled her eyes, but bit the inside of her cheek to keep from talking. She hated when people brought up her age. Yes, she was technically still a teenager, but she felt that by now she should have proven her maturity so as to allay any doubt that she was capable of understanding the gravity of exactly what one was risking each time they faced a new anomaly.

"You're . . . beyond brilliant and a great field coordinator," Becker continued. Jess felt her heart flutter at the compliment, still, she wondered how this related to his comparing her to Sarah.

"Alright," Jess' brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what he was trying to say. When he didn't explain any further, she finally just asked. "What does any of this have to do with me being like Sarah?"

"I don't want you to end up like her." He finally looked at her. There was an intense pain behind his eyes, and Jess thought back to the days when he had first returned to the ARC. No one had told her anything directly, but she was a good listener, and as such, she was able to deduce that it had taken a great deal of persuasion to get Becker to return to his position at the Center.

And yes, she had read Sarah's file, including the report on the young Egyptologist's death. Becker had been there, but from the details provided, Jess was convinced that he did everything in his power to save her, yet failed. Things had gone very bad, very quickly. And now, she realised, he most likely still blamed himself for what had happened.

"She was a scientist, a researcher, and I never should have let her go out in the field on those missions. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"Connor and Abby go out on missions all the time, Becker."

Becker rolled his eyes. "You're honestly not using them as an example—"

Jess raised her hand, signaling him to let her finish. "I'm just saying that we're all adults. Everyone is very much aware of the risks of this job. Yes, I might be mad to have taken this job after seeing a stampede run through Parliament, but was a brilliant opportunity, and I feel like I'm actually making a difference in the world. How many people my age can say that, honestly?" She was waving her hands around a little wildly and Becker grabbed her wrists, trying to calm her down but Jess ignored him.

"And yeah, if I'm the only thing standing between enjoying one more night of prawn crackers with you as opposed to choking out a few kind words over your grave, well, I'll always choose option A, thank you very much, _Captain_."

By the time she finished her little tirade, she was a little out of breath and she felt her cheeks growing red. She had not meant to sound that dramatic, but she really cared about Becker.

She wished he would say something. He continued to stare at her, very intently, but with an unreadable expression.

She glanced down, saw that his large hands were still wrapped loosely around her wrists; she must have looked so delicate to him. He lifted his right hand and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing lightly over the shell of her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed and she swallowed, trying to remain still. This seemed like one of those moments that discourages any sudden movements, and Jess usually followed her instincts about such things.

His hand came to rest on the side of her neck, his thumb lightly caressing her jaw. Jess slowly opened her eyes just in time to see his face very close, and then his lips were pressed against the corner of her mouth.

He pulled away, but jess leaned forward, kissed him on the mouth, catching his top lip. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and Becker wasn't shoving her away in disgust, so she had a few seconds to consider things, just enough to have serious doubts about how she was going play this afterward.

She had not thought this through at all, as he had probably kissed her on the cheek for a very good reason. But if he had been trying to be completely chaste, he should not have kissed her that close to the mouth. What if he really didn't mean to, and his aim was just off because of the concussion? Might as well end this so he could get on with patting her head and letting her down easy.

He kissed her back—he was _so_ kissing her back, readjusting his mouth against hers, parting his lips just enough to deepen the kiss, his fingers of one hand pressing at the back of her neck while the other caressed her wrist and palm.

It was over as abruptly as it had started. Jess opened her eyes, trying to gauge Becker's reaction. His hazel eyes stared into her blue ones, his expression was less than inscrutable. She cleared her throat and licked her lips and looked away. She refused to put her foot in her mouth in this situation.

"Jess?"

Her eyes snapped back to his face. "Yeah?"

"I'm...not good at this."

"How do you mean?"

Becker sighed. His hand finally dropped from around her wrist, and his posture became less relaxed, guarded even. "I didn't even have the stones to kiss you properly the first time, and I really like...having prawn crackers with you."

Jess finally spoke. "Why do I feel a 'but' coming?" And if he mentioned something about her age, she might scream, which, granted, was not the most mature argument for her case. However, he very well knew how old she was when he was buying her chocolate with no orange and letting her fall asleep in his shoulder, hanging around the ADD when he didn't have enough security stuff to keep himself occupied...

"Jessica." He had her attention. She braced herself for whatever he was about to say to mollify her anxiety and dread of rejection.

"Hilary." His eyes widened at her uttering his first name. She had never done it before, but she had learned it when reading his personnel file, and she felt like if there were any time she would reveal her knowledge of it, this was it.

There was a miniscule twitch in his jaw, but for the most part he ignored her bait. "There's no 'but.' There's no point in denying that I fancy you. I've fancied you for a while."

"You don't want to break my heart, right?" Jess cut to the chase. It was cliché, but that didn't make it any less true. She had watched enough romantic comedies to know that.

Becker sighed. "Well, that's an oversimplification really." He did not deny her assertion.

"Is it? Look, I'm a big girl. Bad choice of words maybe, but the point applies. This is just, like, really sucky timing. You could have died today, and it makes you start to think about things. Even though you're drugged and brain-damaged, I'm really glad that I get to spend this time with you. I was _really_ scared for you back there."

Becker put his hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry."

The way he was looking at her now and the heavy way in which he spoke the apology made Jess wonder if he was just apologising for scaring her or...something else, something that his years of military discipline would not let him put into words. She shrugged and he took his hand away. "It's fine. So...shall we get on with the rest of the night, _not_ talking about prawn crackers?"

"Prawn crackers, eh?" Becker gave her a tired smile as he leaned back against the couch.

'Seems appropriate." Jess leaned back as well, once again touching her shoulder to his. She tucked her feet under herself, and Becker draped his arm across the back of the couch, behind Jess.

She felt him leaning toward her and she turned her head slightly to see what he was doing. He pressed a soft kiss against her temple. "You're brilliant," he told her.

"I know." She pursed her lips to stifle the smile that teased the corners of her mouth.

. . . . .

_finis._

_A/N: I feel like this story could use an epilogue. however, I've no idea when I will be able to complete it, so for now, the story is "complete." Feedback is lovely.  
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